


Nature Calls

by pbandwhey



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Park Rangers and Hikers, M/M, Meet-Cute, geno's a chef but it doesnt count as a restaurant au, is it a meet-cute if one of them thinks they're going to die?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11803977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pbandwhey/pseuds/pbandwhey
Summary: Geno starts walking in a random direction. Even if he can’t find the trail, he can at least find a comfortable place to die.Then, he hears a crunch from somewhere behind him.





	Nature Calls

**Author's Note:**

> me in the GC at 9:43am: hey what about a "lost in the woods and a park ranger finds them" au?
> 
> me at 2:17pm: well that was a good waste of four and a half hours

Geno was lost.

Totally, completely, unequivocally lost.

Granted, he _had_ left the trail to get a closer look at this weird bird he’d seen, and then followed a brook for a while, then tried to get as close to a deer as possible, then had to run in another direction because he’d stepped on an underground hornets’ nest, then dropped his compass down a short slope, and then spent fifteen minutes looking for it, to no avail, but Geno still thinks it was the trail map’s fault.

He scowls at his guidebook, but unfortunately, there’s no page with instructions for how not to die in the woods. He tries to check his phone, and there’s no service—partially because his phone’s dead.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself. He rubs at one of the multiple hornet stings on his calf— _Wear long pants,_ the Internet had said, but it’s eighty degrees out and humid and Geno had thought it was a better idea to avoid heat stroke. He can live through stings and scratches from underbrush and—

Geno slaps his neck. “Fucking mosquito.”

The forest canopy is thick, but he can still tell where the sun is. It’s noon, judging by how high it is, which also means that he can’t tell which direction is which. Geno remembers something about moss growing on rocks, but he doesn’t remember which direction that’s supposed to indicate.

Hiking back up the slope seems like a good start. Once he’s at the top, he starts heading to the left—or, wait, maybe he came from the right?

_Fuck._

Geno starts walking in a random direction. Even if he can’t find the trail, he can at least find a comfortable place to die.

Then, he hears a crunch from somewhere behind him.

He whips around and puts his hands up, fully prepared to fight whatever bear or serial killer is standing there, but all he sees is a man in an ugly uniform.

“You need some help?” The man—a park ranger, Geno realizes, though he’s still suspicious that maybe he’s just a crazed murderer in disguise—says, sounding half-concerned, half-amused.

Geno puts his hands down. “Um.” He pulls the trail map out from his pocket, creased from how he’d folded it over and over again. “Map broken.”

The park ranger grins at him. “Broken, eh?” He steps forward. “That’s weird, they’ve always worked pretty well for me.”

Geno scowls at him. “Not have to make fun. You supposed to help, mister—“ He glances at the nameplate on the man’s uniform—“Mister Sidney Crosby.”

The ranger—Sidney—just grins wider. “I suppose I should.” He moves to look down at Geno’s map. “You remember what trail you were on?” This close, Geno realizes how much shorter Sidney is, and how broad his shoulders are, and _—damn._ Of course Geno had to run into the park ranger that’s rude _and_ hot, which is, unfortunately, just his type.

He realizes he’s been staring at Sidney’s shoulders when he hears Sidney repeat the question. He quickly looks down at the map and jabs a finger in what he thinks is the general area of his trail. “This one.”

Sidney looks back up at him and quirks an eyebrow. “That part of that trail is about five miles away from here.” He looks like he’s trying to repress a smile and failing. “You’ve been wandering for five miles?” His barely-there smirk shouldn’t be as attractive as it is, but it doesn’t stop Geno from being annoyed.

“If you’re not help, then I’m find my own way back.” Geno goes to turn, but Sidney reaches out and grasps his arm. It’s a firm grip, and—damnit, Geno needs to stop getting distracted.

“I’m sorry, you’re right.” Sidney says. “I’ve got my jeep parked a little ways away. I can drive you back to the hiking center closest to here, I’m guessing that’s where you came from.” He glances down at Geno’s legs. “And maybe help you with those, good _lord_ , did you run into a hornets’ nest?”

“Stepped on one,” Geno says.

Sidney laughs. Geno hates it.

Sidney starts leading him in the direction of the Jeep. Geno can enjoy the woods a little more now that he knows he isn’t going to starve to death in the middle of nowhere, but he’s still wary, watching his step to make sure he doesn’t step on a snake or trip on a root or something. Sidney notices, and he laughs that goose-honk laugh again. It’d be endearing if it wasn’t at Geno’s expense.

“So,” Sidney says, “you from around Pittsburgh, or are you visiting?”

“Move here a year ago, hired by restaurant in the city.”

“I’m guessing Russian food?” Geno gives Sidney a look, and Sidney giggles. “You know, I’ve always been told not to trust a skinny chef.”

Geno huffs. “I’m best chef. And not that skinny.”

“Lean, then. What’s the name of the place?”

“ _Vladimir._ Some traditional food, some modern. All good, because I’m cook it.”

“Oh, for sure.” Sidney smiles at him. “Maybe I’ll come by and have a look for myself. Do I get a discount for saving your life?”

Geno shoves at his shoulder. “No, because you also very rude.” There isn’t much heart in it, though. It’s embarrassing how charmed Geno is by this guy, considering he’s only known him for about fifteen minutes.

Sidney elbows him back. “But, _if_ I were to try and get that discount,” he says, “what name would I drop?” His ears are red, Geno notes with some satisfaction. Maybe he can get something good out of this whole ordeal after all.

“My name Evgeni.” He pokes his tongue out. “But Geno for Americans.”

Sid looks offended. “I’m Canadian, not American.”

Geno pretends to look confused. “You sure? Canadians supposed to be polite.”

Sid rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Well, if I’m gonna call you Geno, then you should call me Sid.” At this point, Geno’s pretty sure Sid’s flirting back with him, but he could be wrong. He doesn’t want to tip his hand too quickly, since Sid could very well decide to leave Geno to die if he offends him.

They reach a small dirt road, and there’s a Jeep parked along the side. Geno’s part relieved, part disappointed. He was really starting to like Sid’s company. Maybe he can find an excuse to get Sid’s number, since the other option is getting lost in the woods again and hoping he gets found.

“Hold on, I’ve got a first-aid kit in here, I can take care of a few of those.” Sid jogs ahead, opening the passenger side door and bending in to grab something and wow, those ugly green pants do _nothing_ to hide how big his ass is. Geno feels bad for staring, but he doesn’t think anyone could blame him.

Geno manages to wrench his eyes back up when Sid turns around. It’s probably best he doesn’t get caught oogling.

“Alright, c’mere and sit in the passenger seat so I can get the stingers out of there.”

Geno walks over and hops into the Jeep, sticking out his leg with the most stings on it as Sid pulls a pair of tweezers out of the kit. He starts working on Geno’s leg, holding him steady with one hand wrapped around his calf while he pulls the stingers out with the other. He pulls on Geno’s other ankle once he’s done with the first leg, making Geno shift. Normally, Geno likes to be the one in charge, but he’d be lying if he wasn’t a little bit into this right now.

He still hates hornets, though. That hasn’t changed.

Sid pats his knee when he’s done pulling the stingers out. “Alright, the cream will just take a sec.” He gets a tube out of the first-aid kit and squeezes a bit onto his finger, rubbing it onto the first welt. Geno thinks he could easily do this part himself, but if Sid wants to spend more time basically caressing his leg, Geno isn’t going to complain.

It’s done pretty quickly, and Sid stands back up after he’s stuffed the cream back into the kit. He tosses it into the back of the Jeep and rounds around to the other side, hopping into the driver’s seat and fishing the keys out of his pocket.

Sid starts the ignition and pulls back onto the road. “It’s about a ten minute drive. Might be bumpy, so. I hope you don’t mind.”

Geno scoffs. “I can handle _that,_ I’m not wu—“ He doesn’t finish that thought, though, since they hit a bump that raises Geno an inch off the seat. He can hear Sid laughing at him. “Shut up.”

They don’t talk much on the way back to the hiking center. Geno still wants to ask for Sid’s number, but he’d rather wait until they weren’t confined in a car together to do it, lest he gets turned down. He wouldn’t be able to come to this park ever again, but admittedly, he’s not too disappointed with that part of it. Geno’s probably done with hiking for the time being. Unless it’s with Sid.

God, this is sad.

They reach the end of the road, and thankfully it is the right place; Geno can see his car parked off near the hiking center. Sid brings the Jeep to a stop, putting it in park and turning off the engine.

“Is this the right center?”

Geno nods. “Yes, can see car.”

“Good, good.” Sid clears his throat. “So, uh, the restaurant’s called _Vladimir,_ right?”

“Yes,” Geno says, his hopes up. Getting lost in the woods might end up being worth it after all.

Sid chews on his lower lip a little. “If I were to go in one night, would I see you?” His cheeks are flushed.

“No, I’m stuck in kitchen all night.” Sid’s face goes redder, mouth opening like he’s about to apologize, but Geno reaches over and puts his hand over Sid’s where it’s still resting on the gearshift. “But maybe I’m make you breakfast instead?”

A slow smile spreads across Sid's face. “And when do you plan on doing that?”

Geno smirks. “Tonight, I’m get off work at ten-thirty. Can make you breakfast tomorrow.” He worries he’s pushing his luck, but Sid definitely doesn’t look like someone who’s upset about Geno’s advances. In fact, judging by the way Sid's looking at him, he's more than okay with Geno's advances.

Sid pulls his hand out from under Geno’s and holds it out. “Give me your trail map.”

Geno pulls it out of his pocket, slightly confused. He gives it over to Sid, who takes it and reaches back into the compartment between the seats, pulling out a sharpie and scrawling a phone number over the top.

“Call me,” he says, handing the map back over. Geno grabs it, fighting the urge to clutch it to his chest like a teenager in a cheesy high school movie. They sit there for a few moments, smiling at each other, and then Sid nods towards the door. “Now get out.”

Geno opens the door and scrambles out. He keeps his eye on Sid as he starts going over to his car, and Geno blows a kiss and winks at him. He sees Sid throw his head back and laugh before Geno turns away and the engine rumbles back to life.

Geno grins to himself, tucking the map, and Sid’s number, safely away in his back pocket.

Hiking isn’t too bad.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> honestly i might rewrite this at a later date, but for now, have this!  
> unbeta'd


End file.
